CHAPTER IV
CONCERNING MY RIVAL
"NOW, Jim, dip your beak into that, and let me see if it will notrestore to your classic features their customary repose."
So saying, Winter handed me a stately tumbler, and the mixture was somuch to my liking that I felt an involuntary relaxation of my facialmuscles immediately I obeyed the command. I stretched myself at lengthin the easy chair which I had drawn up before the fire, and felt able toforgive even the Motor Pirate. We were alone in the apartment whichWinter called his study, but since the only books he read therein weremotor-catalogues, and the lounges with which the snuggery was furnishedwere much more conducive to repose than to mental exertion, I refused toacknowledge its claim to the title. That, by the way. The fire wasburning brightly. Winter's red, rugged, honest face was beaming withalmost equal radiance. Who could help feeling happy?
Then Mannering was announced, and Mannering was a man I had learned topassively dislike. Why, I scarcely knew. I was aware of nothing againsthim. Indeed, when six months previously, on my first coming to St.Albans, I had been introduced to him, I had been rather favourablyimpressed. He was a tall dark man of thirty-five, with more than theaverage endowment of good looks. He could tell a good story, had shotbig game in most parts of the world, was well-read, intelligent,possessed unexceptionable manners, and yet---- Well, Winter had none ofhis various qualifications, but I would at any time far rather have hadone friend like Winter than a hundred like the other man.
I had first made his acquaintance at Colonel Maitland's house, where Ihad found him on an apparently intimate footing. Perhaps it was thisvery intimacy which formed the basis for my dislike, for--there is noneed to mince matters--at this time I was jealous, horribly andunreasonably jealous, of every male person who entered the Colonel'shouse. And here, perhaps, it will be better for me to explain how ithappened that I came to be living in a cottage on the outskirts of St.Albans in preference to my own house in Norfolk.
The change in my residence had been entirely due to a tennis party atCromer. There I met Evie Maitland. She was---- No, every one can fill inthe blank from their own experience for themselves; and if they cannot,I pity them.
Fortunately I had an aunt present. She was the most amiable of aunts,and quite devoted towards her most dutiful nephew. With her assistance,I managed not only to improve my acquaintance with Miss Maitland, butalso to effect an introduction to her father. I had only known them aweek, however, before the Colonel took his daughter back to St. Albans.I allowed an interval of a fortnight to elapse, and then I followed. Ofcourse I had to be prepared with some excuse, and here luck favoured me.Looking through the directory I discovered that Winter, whom I knewslightly as having been up at Camford about the same time as myself, wasalso a resident in the delightful St. Alban's suburb of St. Stephenswhere the Maitlands resided. I sought out Winter. I confided my story tohim. The upshot of it all was that I took a cottage close to his house,and not far from the Colonel's, ostensibly that under Winter's tuition Imight develop into a first-class motorist.
Somehow I found that I made a great deal more progress with my motoringthan with my love-making. Surely a more bewitching, tantalizing,provoking little beauty than Evie Maitland never tore a man's heart tofragments. If she was kind to me one day, she would be still kinder toMannering the next. But that is neither here nor there. Anyhow, Iheartily wished him out of the way, for there was no doubt whatever thatRandolph Mannering was a much more attractive person than myinsignificant self. His mere advantage in age counted for something; butI could have forgiven him that, had he not made use of the years to seeso much and do so much, that he could not help appearing in the light ofa hero to a girl who was just at the worshipping age. And he knew sowell how to get the fullest value out of his experiences. He neverparaded them, I must admit that much in his favour. He was far tooclever. An anecdote here and there to illustrate some point in theconversation, a modest account of some thrilling adventure, in which hehardly ever mentioned the part he had personally played, produced a muchgreater effect than if he had gone about trumpeting the deeds he haddone and the dangers he had survived.
He had, too, the advantage of a much longer acquaintance with theMaitlands than myself. I learned from the Colonel that Mannering hadbeen living in a house whose garden adjoined his own for a year beforemy arrival on the scene. His life, until the Colonel had recognized himas an acquaintance he had made at the house of a friend some yearsbefore, had been that of a recluse, the object of his retirement beingto perfect some mechanical invention upon which he was engaged. He hadsoon developed into a friend of the family, and I had found him firmlyinstalled as such when I made my appearance at St. Albans.
Naturally then I was none too pleased that Winter had proposed to takehim into our confidence, but I made no absolute objection.
I sat smoking quietly while Winter told the story of our adventure. Helistened most attentively.
"It's a most extraordinary story," he remarked, when the narrative wasconcluded. "You are quite sure neither of you touched any of thatport?"
Winter turned one of his pockets inside out with an expressive gesture.
"Wine may rob a man of his wits," he replied, "but it does not relievehim of fifty pounds in notes, six in gold, a watch and chain worthfifty, and a diamond which has been valued at a hundred."
"The numbers of the notes should enable you to trace the thief," saidMannering, thoughtfully.
Winter laughed. "The fact is, I am such a careless beggar. I alwayscarry notes about with me, replenishing my case when necessary; andreally I have nothing to tell me whether those notes I had in mypossession were the last batch I had from the bank, or odd ones leftover from previous consignments. They may have been in my case formonths."
"Both Winter and I could identify our watches," I hazarded.
"Of course," replied Mannering, "if your Motor Pirate is fool enough toattempt to pawn them you may get the chance; but if he sells them to areceiver, they'll go straight into the melting pot."
Winter lit a cigarette and Mannering turned to me. "What was the extentof your loss?"
"Ten in gold, thirty in notes, and say thirty for my watch. My loss iscomparatively light."
"You know the numbers of your notes, I suppose?" he inquired, as he lita cigarette in turn.
"Yes," I replied, "I'm not quite so casual as Winter."
"There's some clue for the police to work upon, then."
"It might prove to be so, only Winter thinks we show up so badly in thewhole affair that he won't hear of my giving information."
"The fact is," said Winter, "Maitland slept soundly through the wholeaffair, and it wouldn't be sporting to give him away."
"I see----" began Mannering.
Winter deftly changed the subject. "What puzzles me," he said, "is thekind of motor the fellow employed to propel his car. I know of nothingat present on the market anything like so effective. I've seen 'em all."
"Your loss doesn't seem to trouble you much, anyhow," commentedMannering.
"I would willingly give a hundred times as much for a duplicate of thatmotor. I should be pretty sure to get my money back once I put it on themarket."
"If there's all that value in it, why should the owner go in for highwayrobbery?" I asked.
"That's just what I fail to understand," said Winter. "From what I couldsee of it, our friend the Motor Pirate is possessed of an ideal car,graceful in shape, making no noise, running with a minimum of vibrationand a maximum of speed. Why, there's a fortune in it."
"Of course it is quite impossible that the motive power can beelectricity?" remarked Mannering, gazing into the fire as if he couldsee a solution of the mystery therein.
"Quite out of the question. Any one who has the slightest knowledge ofmotoring would know it to be impossible, even if the Pirate had deviseda storage battery which would knock Edison's latest invention into acocked hat. But supposing he had achieved the feat, remember that,according to the newspaper reports
, he was at Plymouth yesterday atdusk, near Salisbury at eleven the same evening, and holding us up onthe confines of St. Albans to night. He would be bound to get hisbatteries recharged somewhere and, with a car of such remarkable shape,how is he to do so without exciting remark? No; electricity is quite outor the question. I should be glad to think that the car was an electricone. His capture would only be a matter of a few hours."
An indefinable expression, which might have been a smile, flitted acrossMannering's face.
"I hope, for all our sakes, his motor is an electric one," he said. "Atall events it should not be difficult to track a car of so singular ashape. If it were built on the same lines as yours or mine, forinstance, the owner might go anywhere without attracting attention."
"Anyhow," I broke in, "until he is captured I'm going for a run everynight with something that will shoot within easy reach. The next time Ihave the fortune to meet with him I hope I shall be in a position to geta bit of my own back."
Again a smile appeared on Mannering's face as he exclaimed, "I almostfeel inclined to follow your example. I have nearly forgotten how touse a pistol since I have resided in this law-ridden land."
"Surely you won't expose your experimental car to the chance of beingrammed by the Motor Pirate," remarked Winter, chaffingly.
Mannering's car was a stock joke with us. It was a particularlycumbersome vehicle, with heaven only knows what type of body. It mighthave been capable of twenty miles an hour on the flat, but that would bethe extreme limit of its powers. "You fellows," he had explained to usone day, "have taken to motoring for the fun of flying along thehigh-roads at an illegal speed. I have taken to it for a moreutilitarian purpose. I have my own ideas about the motor of the future,and I am working them out down here. My old caravan is heavy, perhaps,but I want a heavy car. It's most useful for testing tyres, and that isone of the special points engaging my attention. Besides, in this car Iam not tempted to get into trouble with the police. Twelve miles an houris quite fast enough for all my purposes."
Both Winter and myself had frequently asked him how he was progressingwith his work, but as he had never returned us any but the vaguest ofanswers, nor ever invited us into the workshop which had once formed thestables of the house where he resided, we had thought that his story ofbeing engaged in mechanical invention merely an excuse for getting ridof unpleasant visitors. I think we were both surprised when he answeredWinter's chaff quite warmly.
"I should not at all mind exposing my car to any risk if I could get theopportunity to examine the Motor Pirate's car. If the truth must betold, from what I have seen of his car, and what you have told me, I amrather inclined to think that whoever designed it has forestalled me inan idea which I had thought quite my own. I have long been working toproduce a car which would run at least a hundred miles an hour withoutnoise or perceptible vibration."
"Couldn't you get it completed in a week?" interrupted Winter. "We mighthave a most exciting chase after our friend."
Mannering shook his head. "I've been absolutely floored on one detail,and if that fellow has solved the problem----" Shrugging his shoulders,he rose and held out his hand to Winter. I followed his example.
"I had no idea that you had anything so important on the stocks,"remarked Winter, as he accompanied us to the door.
"Nor would you have done so until you saw the perfect machine on theroad, if it had not been for my chagrin at seeing that car to-night. Ofcourse I can count upon you both to say nothing of the matter."
"On condition that you do not refer to our adventure again," said I,laughing.
"Agreed," responded Mannering, as he smiled again.
We both said good night to Winter, and in spite of our host's efforts topersuade us to stay for another peg, I followed Mannering out,declaring that I should never be able to face Mrs. Winter again if Ikept him up any longer.
I found Mannering standing at the gate, and I paused beside him toglance at the sky, across which one or two fleecy clouds were hurryingfrom the west. The moon, brilliant as earlier in the evening, now hunglow down over the horizon. The breeze had freshened, and we could hearit whispering amongst the trees.
"We shall not be long without rain. If the Pirate is still abroad hewill leave tracks," said Mannering.
The beauty of the night held so much of appeal to me that I felt annoyedat the current of my thoughts being turned back to the topic.
I answered shortly. My companion took no notice of my petulance.
"You have always thought I cared nothing for speed," he remarked, "butyou were mistaken. I thought I would keep my desires in the backgrounduntil I had succeeded in perfecting a car which I knew it would beimpossible to outpace. I could not enter into competition with longerpurses than my own, and if I had bought the fastest car in the marketsomebody else would have bought one faster. But to-night---- By Jove!How I envy that Motor Pirate. Imagine what the possession of that carmeans on a night like this, with the roads clear from John-o'-Groat's toLand's End. Fancy flying onwards at a speed none have ever attempted.Can you not see the road unwinding before you like a reel of whiteribbon, hear the sweet musical drone of the wheels in your ears----" Hestopped abruptly.
He must have observed my natural amazement at the intensity of feelingwhich his speech displayed, for he observed in a lighter tone--
"Not being Motor Pirates, however, the next best thing is, I suppose, togo to bed and dream that we are." He turned on his heel and strode awayin one direction, while I went in the direction of my own home. But Iwas in no hurry to get there. The night was too delightful.
In the few hours which had elapsed since we had sat down to dine, achange had come over the face of the land. I could feel the presence ofSpring in the air, and all the youth in me awoke. The creatures of theearth felt it too. In the silence of the night I could hear the crackleof the buds as they cast off their winter coverings, hear the whisper ofthe grass, which the countryman declares is the sound of growing blades,hear the murmur of all animate things as they rose to welcome theSpringtide. My own heart leapt up with a renewal of hope. I stood awhileoutside Colonel Maitland's door, and breathed a prayer that it might bemy fortune to protect the fair inmate of the house from all harm throughlife. I strolled slowly to my own door, but I did not enter. Moonbeamsbeget love-dreams when one is still in the twenties.
Back again to the Colonel's house, back once more to my own. In allprobability I should have continued my solitary sentry-go and myreverie until daybreak, had not my thoughts been sharply recalled toearth. On reaching my own doorway for the fifth or sixth time I had justturned, when I saw a black shadow on the road opposite the Maitlands'house. One glance was enough; it was the Motor Pirate again, and I beganto count. "One--two--," the car passed me, "three--four;" it hadvanished round a turning of the road in the direction of St. Albans.
Even what I had already experienced of the Pirate had not prepared mefor such an exhibition as this. What Mannering had said about thedelight of flying along an open road at a hundred miles an hour recurredto me. I had not deemed it possible. But I paced the distance betweenthe Colonel's house and the bend where the strange car had passed out ofsight. The distance was just about two hundred yards, and it had beencovered as near as possible in four seconds. The car must have beentravelling just about a hundred miles an hour.
I went straight indoors to bed. I am not ashamed to confess that I wasnot able to continue my dreams in comfort, while pacing the road, by theconsideration of what would have happened to me had the Motor Piratecome along just two seconds before I happened to turn and see him.
The Motor Pirate Page 4